Title: Sleepless Nights

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, the characters rightfully belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

Rating: T (Mention of blood, depression and incestuous feelings)

Summary: Yashamaru is uncertain of who he is supposed to hate. He cant sleep, because Gaara never sleeps. Yashamarus inner turmoil as he slips further into a temporary state of madness and depression. Psychological angst. Infant Gaara.

Yashamaru watched with tired, emotionless eyes as he observed the redheaded boy roll around from his back onto his stomach. The baby landed clumsily with his face down in the bed with a small grunt. But with the little strength his fragile body could muster, he managed to rise his head back up from the blanket with the support of his hands.

Yashamaru restrained a frown by the sound of the little one as he clenched the end of the crib tightly, his knuckles turning white by the pressure.

He remember the day Gaara was born as if it were yesterday.

The Yondaime Kazekage had carelessly handed him a newborn child wrapped in a light blue blanket. The infant was a feeble one, fitting roughly between his hands. He was surprised that something that small could maintain a heartbeat. It amazed him even more as he felt it's chest rise, striving to catch a single breath.

It was then he noticed that the baby was drenched in blood beneath the covers.

His sister's blood.

The dry blood had smeared itself across his sickly pale flesh.

The medical staff didn't even take the time to properly clean him, he thought.

"She's really dead, isn't she...," he whispered. It wasn't a question, but rather a statement. Because he knew inwardly it couldn't be anything else.

When Yashamaru had heard about the council's plan to seal the one-tailed demon Shukaku inside Karura's child, which still resided within her womb, he was immediately against it. They had no right to decide her fate like that!

Tearing her away from her two children who still desperately needed their mother.

Her beloved village whom adored their kind Kazehime.

Him...

But what could he do? He held no political power. Heck, he was just a mere tool in the councils eyes!

Just like Karura was.

The only person who was probably capable of opposing the council's idea would be The Kazekage himself. But like the saint his sister was, Karura accepted the council's suicidal request, thinking it was all for the greater good of Suna. Even if it would eventually cost her her life and deprive her of the chance of ever getting to know her unborn son. She was an angel like that, always putting the well being of others before her own.

"Karura did the right thing," his brother-in-law said. "-but since she won't be able to take care of the jinchuuriki anymore, then it leaves me no choice but to appoint you as his caretaker from now on. "

Yashamaru stared at him in shock as he held back his grieving tears, his sadness turning into blood boiling rage within him.

Why didn't you stop the council...Why didn't you save her...!?

He hid his growing anger behind a nervous facade as he replied with a shaking voice. "B-b-but Kazekage-sama! I don't know how to raise a child, I..!"

"It's an order, Yashamaru"

Yashamaru flinched and shut his mouth quickly. He swallowed his words bitterly as he bowed in defeat.

"As you wish, Kazekage-sama."

When The Kazekage was about to take his leave, Yashamaru asked.

"What...did she name him?"

The Kazekage stopped in his step, his back still facing him.

"Gaara"

Yashamaru eyed the moving bundle in his arms wearily.

A self-loving carnage...How peculiar, he thought grimly as his fingertip brushed lightly against Gaaras chin, making the baby squirm beneath his touch. Yashamaru found it odd that he didn't cry like the other babies did. How he just remained silent and calm against his chest. He was brought back from his melancholic musing by The Kazekages solemn words.

"Remember your sister sacrificed her life for this village. Don't let her death be in vain."

And so he didn't. The child had grown bigger in size over the past eight months, but still small considering the fact that he was born premature. Soon after his birth, his eyes had opened to reveal a jade green color.

Yashamaru observed Gaaras antics closely. His thoughts drifted away as he pictured his darling older sister with that shy smile of hers, and her eyes shining brightly as the wind blew through her sandy blond hair.

Karura was certainly a beauty beyond compare.

Yashamaru truly loved his sister, perhaps even more than a sibling should. But he couldn't help it. Karura was everything to him. After their parents tragic death during The Second Shinobi War there were only the two of them left. So the only one they could truly rely on was each other. Even though the loss of their parents broke their hearts, he was grateful that he still had Karura.

If he had lost her then he wouldn't know what to do.

That was until that man came into the picture and swiped her off her feet. When Karura had declared her new found love, Yashamaru was happy on her behalf. Even after her marriage to The Yondaime Kazekage they were still close to one another, and she kept entrusting him with her deepest and most personal thoughts. She even convinced her husband to let him become his right hand-man. But despite all the happiness he wished Karura on her wedding day, Yashamaru inwardly wished that he could be the one to give her that kind of love and happiness, letting the green-eyed monster possess some part of him after all.

But even if he failed to protect his sister, he remained loyal to her and her children, and tried his best to love Gaara the same way he knew she would have. Yashamaru doubted he would ever love someone as much as he loved Karura or have children of his own, so he did his best to tend to Gaaras needs. At times he would even pretend that the child was his own son, just so it would feel more like a personal choice than a mission like The Kazekage intended.

But there where also times which reminded him that Gaara wasn't a normal child to begin with.

Gaara didn't sleep.

It wasn't like he couldn't, but the sand had a tendency to act out violently if he did. So to keep Shukaku at bay, he let him stay awake. Even if he had to stay up with him. Because even though he hosted a demon, he was still a child who craved human attention like everyone else.

No one dared to watch Gaara for him.

Especially not after Gaara tore a woman's arm off. The poor maid had walked into Gaaras room by accident one night.

The one minute I left him unattended, Yashamaru thought sourly.

The foolish woman had scared him with her unfamiliarity and a bloodbath had ensured.

He could still remember the woman's awful screams.

How they found her decapitated limb laying in the blood drenched sand.

Mangled and crushed beyond recognition...

Gaara cried constantly that night.

Yashamaru had to cradle him for hours while rubbing the blood stains from his bed and floor.

According to the Kazakage, the woman had died of the damages the next day. If it was out of fear or blood-loss he does not know.

They all feared Gaara.

His father.

His siblings.

Everyone.

Except for him.

Yashamaru continued to watch the baby with tiresome eyes, the bangs under his eyes becoming darker and heavier for each night that past. This was just one of the many sleepless nights he had been forced to stay awake, fully aware that many more would come.

He noticed the sand grains was pushing itself through the window. Hissing its way toward the crib in a alluring motion, like a snake-charmer who called upon his snakes with his flute. He gave up on trying to hold the sand away from him, because no matter what he did it always came back.

It was like keeping the earth away from the sky. Utterly impossible.

Gaara reached out to touch it, letting the sand scrape against his soft skin. Soon enough the sand was starting to swirl around his tiny form, following his every movement.

Sand was an unruly element Suna both feared and respected for its fierce nature.

But now it was reduced to nothing more than a child's play, he scoffed inwardly.

For the villagers it was truly a terrifying sight to behold. A baby, not even a year of age, who was already capable of taking another persons life with just a flick of his hand.

Murderer...

It was strange how someone so innocent could cause so much bloodshed without even knowing it.

Monster...

But Yashamaru refused to let the fear control him. Sand or not, he was still an infant with a mind that was still untouched by the wickedness of this world.

But it probably wouldn't stay like that for long.

He glared at the gurgling child, jealous of his carefree state.

Don't you know how much problems you have caused. How much people had to sacrifice for you...?!

His eyes met Gaaras green ones, who was staring back at him with those dark mocking eyes of his.

"You look nothing like her..."

They were the same dark rimmed eyes which he shared with the same man he despised more then anything. He fumed in silent anger as he recalled all the pain that man had caused him throughout his life. By sacrificing his sisters life without even showing any remorse, and turning his nephew into a monster whom he would barely acknowledged.

Yashamaru felt his body tremble with rage by the mere thought of him. But his dark thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Gaaras chiming laughter. Yashamaru shook the crib furiously.

"Be quiet, you wretched child!"

The baby remained unfazed by his hurtful words and kept on giggling. Yashamaru eyes widened in realization over what he just done and snatched Gaara up into his arms, smothering him against his chest.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean that...! I didn't mean that...! Don't be sad...Oneèsama...," he whispered desperately, pleading for forgiveness as if Karura's spirit had heard everything he just said. He noticed the sand had started to crawl up his legs, squeezing them tightly. But Yashamaru ignored the pain.

The sand was just protecting him after all.

Just like Karura would.

"You're Karuras precious child. You're a part of her as well, not just him...Nothing she gave birth to could possible be evil, even if you look like him...," he muttered to himself. The sand fell down to the floor when he placed Gaara back into the crib. He grabbed the brown teddy bear from the shelf and tucked it between Gaaras hands, making him squeal with delight as he hugged the oversized bear closely.

Yashamaru felt his lips turn into a ghost-like smile. It was a sight like that which almost made him forget his worries.

Just almost.

I will teach you, he thought, about the true meaning of love and pain.

Just like he had.

Because in the end, they all got hurt.

A/N: Since my previous story was kind of fluffy, I decided to try writing angst instead and explore the more darker part of the Sand family.

I want to remind people that I'm not trying to bash any of the characters. I'm just reflecting things from a darker point of view on Yashamarus reaction to Gaaras traumatic birth. How he handled his new role as a Gaaras caretaker, dealing with the loss of his sister, and how all the sleepless nights with stress and grief could have affected his mental state.

I hope you readers have enjoyed my story to a certain extent, despite the angstyness! Thanks for taking the time to read and review!

- Cyanidespiderbites